


Homecoming

by RocknVaughn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknVaughn/pseuds/RocknVaughn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes temptation gets the better of even Emrys. Spoilers through 5X03.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The first part of this story was written as a drabble for a prompt at Camelot_Drabble (Prompt #30 ~ Ghosts). I decided to write a sequel, which is the second chapter here. At this point, I am undecided if I will carry this story further or not. 
> 
> I could see myself doing it, but I am trying to complete another WIP right now, and I don't focus on that, I'll never finish it! So, my posts on this one could be a while in coming.

Homecoming

Two days after Arthur had banished Uther’s ghost, he placed the Horn of Cathbad into Merlin’s hands and asked him to take care of it. The unspoken understanding was that Merlin would lock it away in the vaults; hide it from Arthur so he would never again be enticed by its dark power.

The problem for Merlin was that Arthur’s temptation had become his own.

Merlin’s first mistake was hiding the Horn under the loose floorboard in his room instead of taking it to the vaults. _What difference did it make? He was still hiding it from Arthur; that was the important part,_ he’d reasoned at the time.

And for a while, it had been enough. For days, just knowing that it was there, underneath him while he slept, satisfied him.

But then Merlin found that—at random times of the day and for no reason at all—he would stop by and _visit_ the Horn…just _hold_ it, turning it over and over in his hands, sliding his long fingers against its curves, admiring its beautiful construction and thinking…wondering…

Merlin knew what was happening, because it had happened before with the Crystal of Neahtid: that ancient, powerful magic was calling to him, recognizing him as kin…as Emrys.

So, Merlin tried to put it out of his mind. He really did. But he couldn’t. The Horn called to him like a siren to a sailor, over and over, and like an idiot he kept going back for more.

For five weeks, Merlin fought the growing, aching need taking root in his soul. It got to the point where he barely ate and hardly slept, his mind churning with possibility.

And then something inside Merlin just broke. _Why? Why should he deny himself? Why could he not have something that **he** desperately needed for a change? For once in his life, could he not just have something that was **his**?_

The next morning, while Arthur and Gwen were breaking their fast, Merlin approached them, asking whether he might be able to have a little time off to travel to Ealdor to visit his mother.

Gwen’s eyes immediately met Arthur’s. Just the last evening, after Merlin had been retired for the night, the two of them had pondered aloud about what was troubling him.

They’d noticed his distraction of late, how he’d lost weight, didn’t seem to have the same spring in his step, how his smiles no longer reached his eyes…and wondered why. Perhaps now they had discovered the answer. It had been almost a year since he’d last petitioned for time to visit Hunith; maybe he was missing her…homesick for the tiny village he’d once called home.

“Of course you can go,” Arthur said warmly, placing a friendly hand on Merlin's slight shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Give Hunith our best regards.”

Heading out the next morning with the Horn tucked safely in his saddlebag, Merlin knew he should have felt guilty. He knew he should…but really, what was one more lie in the sea of the thousands he’d told over the years? And this one wasn’t even a lie, he reasoned, but more of an omission, since he did truly mean to travel on to Ealdor once his detour was complete.

And that was how Merlin found himself standing on the windswept plain, his horse grazing lazily nearby as he stared at the ancient Stones of Nematon erupting from the great grass mound like the first buds of spring reaching for the sun from snowy ground.

_This is stupid!_ Merlin thought, but he could not deny that his heart was pounding more from excitement than from fear.

“This is stupid, Merlin,” Merlin scolded himself again, this time aloud. He tried to reason to himself one last time. “You _know_ how stupid this is…”

Another step, closer…then another. “High Priestesses trained for _years_ before attempting it…”

But his stubborn feet kept moving him closer to the immense stone circle. “Gaius said this was dangerous…”

His fingers reflexively grasped the Horn even tighter; its side warmed to his touch. “Look what happened to _Arthur_ …”

But it was no use and Merlin knew it. He could no sooner stop himself from this action than he could stop the world from turning.

In the end, it mattered not that he was a warlock, or even that he was Emrys. Despite that, despite his _destiny_ …he was still _human_ , after all…

And this was a homecoming he’d earned many times over with blood, sweat, tears, and loss.

_It was all Arthur’s fault. Really, it was. If only he hadn’t said it, then I wouldn’t have thought about it, dreamed about it, obsessed over it:_

**“If you were given the same chance to see your father, talk to him…would you do the same?”**

His answer was the same now as it had been weeks before: Yes. He would.

Merlin stepped inside the ring; the stone sentinels surrounded him in silent vigil as the ancient magic swirled all around him, making his breath catch and his blood sing. With tears of joy pricking his eyes, he lifted the Horn to his lips…and blew.


	2. Communion

Communion

As the last strains of the horn echoed and died on the soft spring breeze, Merlin opened his eyes. There, in front of him, the opening in the Veil blazed blinding white. Taking care to tuck the Horn of Cathbad into his belt, Merlin stepped forward into the unknown.

Blinking away the flash, it took Merlin a moment to gather his bearings.  **Now**  he understood why High Priestesses trained so long for this moment: He was literally standing…nowhere. There was no floor, ceiling, walls, sky, grass…just  _nothing_. It was disorienting; Merlin closed his eyes took a deep breath to calm himself.

And then, suddenly Merlin realized he was no longer alone.

"Merlin."

As he heard the warm, gravelly voice that had haunted his dreams for years, his eyes snapped open. Merlin gasped at the sight that greeted him.

He thought his father would look much like he had when he died, for when Uther had appeared to he and Arthur, he was wearing the ceremonial dress he'd been buried in. But the sight that greeted Merlin's eyes was  _nothing_  like he'd been expecting.

This man appeared much younger and infinitely more carefree than he'd been when Merlin had met him. His eyes sparkled with humor and warmth. His smile was inviting and open. Instead of a full, grizzly beard, he sported only a well-groomed moustache and goatee, allowing Merlin to see for the first time the origins of his own high cheekbones and long face. The similarities were stunning. No one seeing Balinor in this state could  **possibly**  mistake him for anyone other than Merlin's father.

And instead of the well-worn and oft-patched clothes he'd died in, Balinor was garbed in a rich green tunic, with trim black trousers that were tucked into high leather boots. Across his shoulders was draped a cloak of deep red, much darker than the Pendragon scarlet. Around his neck hung a disc, upon it a dragon in flight worked intricately and expertly in gold and silver, suspended from a thick silver chain.

As Merlin stared at Balinor, stunned mute, his father reached out with both of his hands and grasped his son by the shoulders, pulling him into an embrace. He was warm and solid, nothing like Uther in his ghostly form. "My son…" Balinor breathed, his voice breaking on the last word.

"Father…" Merlin gasped, tears choking his voice as he raised his own arms and clasped his father to his breast tightly. "I have missed you  _so_ much!"

After a long moment of communion, Balinor pulled back, cradling his adult son's face in one hand, using his thumb to brush away happy tears. "And I, you."

Merlin leaned into the touch as if he were a young child instead of a grown man. "I wish…we'd had more time together."

Balinor smiled gently in understanding. "Yes, me too. I would have enjoyed getting to know you, Son."

Merlin stepped back, placing his hands on Balinor's forearms and looking him over. "What's all this? I expected…"

Balinor smiled, not needing to hear more. "…me to appear as I had upon my death." The older man shrugged; a sheepish smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "We can choose how we appear to our loved ones…and I chose to give you a vision of a happier time. This is how I once was, long ago."

"When you were a Dragonlord…" Merlin supplied.

Balinor nodded.

"When you met my mother…"

Another nod.

"You  _do_  look different," Merlin conceded, staring at the slight-but-strong, ruggedly handsome man not much older than himself and remembering their discussion of long ago, hunched across from each other around a campfire:  _She wouldn't recognize me…_

Balinor chuckled. "Well, if this impressed you, then you should have seen your mother!" A wistful expression clouded his eyes. "Hunith was _so_ beautiful, inside and out; she was truly a sight to behold."

Merlin blinked back new tears. "You loved her."

"More than my own life. That's why I left. I needed to know she'd be safe. That knowledge kept me sane. " Balinor's eyes met his son's, serious and grave. "But I  _swear_ , had I known about you, Merlin… **nothing**  would have kept me away."

One watery smile met another. "Thank you," Merlin whispered.

"You do not need to thank me, Son. It is I who should thank  _you_."

Merlin looked stunned. "Whatever for?"

"In the last hours of my life, you made me remember who I was; brought me back to myself, dragged me away from the bitterness and the hatred that had almost destroyed my soul."

"I love you and I am  _so_  proud of the man you've become." Balinor seemed to glow ethereally from the emotion.

For the first time, Merlin let his hands and eyes drop, breaking the connection. He felt unworthy of his father's praise. "Why? I have failed…in _so_  many things and in  _so_  many ways."

Balinor stepped forward, grasping Merlin's wrists and shaking him, forcing Merlin's eyes back to his face. "How can you say that? You have been given a destiny so great that many others would have collapsed under its weight. But here you are, still proud and strong, still watching over the Once and Future King, leading this land toward a peace not seen in centuries, toward a place where people like us can be respected once more."

Merlin shook his head, desperation and self-loathing evident in the movement. "It's been  _ten years_  and I am no closer to making Arthur accept magic than when I arrived in Camelot. Innocent people have _died_  because I couldn't protect them with my gifts. I've hurt many people because of decisions I've made! Even poor Aithusa…" Merlin's voice broke and his knees buckled, forcing his father to grasp him under the arms to keep him upright.

"You have always done the best you could and that's all anyone can expect of you…including  _yourself_. You may be Emrys and the last Dragonlord, but you are just a  _man_ , Merlin. Men make  _mistakes_. What matters is that you  _learn_  from the mistakes and move forward instead of _dwelling_  on them."

"As for Aithusa…what happened to her was not your fault. Some things are written in the stars and this was one of them.  _Nothing_  you could have done would have prevented this outcome. Never fear, you are doing your Dragonlord heritage proud, especially considering you've had to learn it all on your own."

"And as for Arthur…I don't think you give your friend enough credit. He may not say it, but you are the most important person in his life."

Balinor put up a hand to quiet Merlin's protest before he could make it. " **Yes.**  I have seen inside his heart, and I know of what I speak. You are more important to him than his father ever was, even more important than Guinevere is now.  **You**  are the person who made him the man he is today, and he knows it…even if he is afraid to admit it."

Merlin's eyes lowered until he was staring at the tips of Balinor's boots. On a whisper, he confided to his father his greatest fear, "He'll hate me…"

"A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole," Balinor replied solemnly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Merlin groaned aloud and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Not you, too!"

Balinor chuckled and chucked Merlin under the chin, his mirth turning into a full-blown laugh when faced with his son's surly expression. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Kilgharrah has  _such_  a way with words, after all…"

"Damned supercilious lizard…" Merlin grumbled, making Balinor laugh once more, a deep, booming bark that wrapped itself around Merlin like a blanket, warming his insides. The sound was infectious, and he found his lips curling upward despite himself.

"Trust me, I know," Balinor agreed. His expression sobered. "Merlin, Arthur will not hate you. He might be hurt that you didn't tell him sooner, but he will decidedly  _not_  hate you."

Balinor's hand dropped heavily onto Merlin's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I know you're afraid; you've been hiding this secret your entire life. But there comes a time when you must take a leap of faith and believe in the foundation that you've built. This is that time."

Balinor looked back toward the light glowing steadily brighter behind him before meeting Merlin's eyes. "It appears our time together is nearly at an end," he said sadly.

_No!_  Merlin's soul cried out, but he knew logically this moment had to come. His eyes dropped and he nodded even as his heart was breaking.

"But before I go, I have time to right one more wrong," Balinor said proudly, a smile touching the corners of his mouth.

His declaration brought Merlin's eyes back to his father's face, this time in confusion. "What wrong?"

Instead of answering, Balinor let go of Merlin and grasped the chain around his neck and removed it, gathering it up in the palm of one hand.

"From this moment on, you are no longer to be known as Merlin of Ealdor, bastard son of Hunith. I formally acknowledge in front of the Gods that you are my son. I christen you Merlin Ambrosius, the last in a long line of proud Dragonlords."

Tears ran freely down both men's cheeks.

Balinor grasped Merlin's hand and opened it, placing the disc and chain inside of it and clasping his fingers around his son's, closing them around the gift. "This is our family's seal. It is yours now."

Merlin's eyes widened in wonder. "You were a nobleman?"

"Yes. All Dragonlords were. As are you."

_A nobleman._  Merlin shivered at the thought. It changed  _ **everything**._

"If anyone questions it, take the seal to Geoffrey of Monmouth. He will be able to determine the origin of the seal, and certainly you have the ability to prove your claim as my son."

Merlin's eyes widened in terror at the thought of exposing himself in that way.

Balinor chuckled. "Or you could just ask Hunith to vouch for its truth. I'm sure Arthur would believe her."

Merlin looked from the disc in his hand, to Balinor's smile, and back to his hand. "I…don't know if I can accept this. Gaius didn't tell me everything about…this." Merlin waved his other hand to indicate their surroundings.

"By that you mean that you snuck the Horn out from under Gaius' nose like a thief in the night," Balinor teased knowingly. "I know Gaius, and he would never have let you come here with it alone."

Merlin had the good grace to blush, the color rising up his cheeks and along the tips of his ears in mortification. "No, he probably wouldn't have."

Balinor chuckled. "You don't have to worry, Merlin. Nothing bad will happen as long as you put it on now, while you are still on this side of the Veil. If it is a part of you when you leave, it will remain with you into the Other world. And no, I won't be following you…so long as you don't look back."

Merlin nodded solemnly and slipped the silver chain around his neck, marveling at how light it felt to wear even though it was quite weighty in his hand. As the disc touched his chest, the dragon glowed an ethereal blue before flashing gold and fading back to its original form.

"See?" Balinor explained. "It recognizes you." The glow behind the older man was so bright now that Merlin almost felt the need to shield his eyes.

Balinor pulled Merlin in for one last hug. "Gaius has done well with you, Merlin. Tell him I said so."

Merlin nodded against his father's shoulder, feeling the tears roll down his cheeks and drip onto the thick cloak.

"I know you mean to travel to Ealdor after this. Please let Hunith know I asked after her. Tell her I will continue to watch over you both…" Balinor's voice caught from the emotion, but he pushed the words out past the lump in his throat, "…that I love and miss her…and that one day, we will be together once more."

Merlin's breath hitched as the sobs he had been trying to hold in broke free. "Father…" he gasped and clasped Balinor against his slight chest as if he would never let go.

But only a moment later, Balinor leaned back and eased himself out of Merlin's grasp. "Be brave and strong like the Dragonlord you are, and things will work out fine between you and Arthur. You'll see. Never forget that I love you, my precious Son."

Merlin nodded and wiped his wet face on his shirtsleeve. He took one last look at his father, at the abject love and pride on his face, and broke out in a brilliant smile of his own. "I love you, too, Father. I will miss you. Goodbye."

" _Not_  goodbye," Balinor corrected. "Merely farewell, for a while." He nodded toward the opening in the Veil behind his son. "Go…while you still can."

Merlin nodded and turned, tears reforming in his eyes, making his vision blurry. He took one step, then another…and stopped.

**Now**  he understood what had happened with Arthur, why he'd unwittingly brought his father's ghost into the land of the living: The temptation to look back, to see his father one last time, was almost overwhelming and Merlin very nearly gave in.

But then he glanced down and saw the pendant bobbing against his chest, felt it warm him with each glancing touch. Closing his eyes, Merlin felt inside himself for the strength usually reserved for commanding a dragon, forced himself  _not_  to look back, and took the last step through the Veil.

 


End file.
